It was my intention to complete these posts chronologically but I have just seen The Ginkz live so everything has changed.  I love Degaruda still, I very much enjoy what my band is doing still and there are many other bands that I still consider to be brilliant amongst the small scene that is Bangkok.  Still.  In this particular post I was going to explain what things are like for a gigging band in this morally corrupt town of ours and to wax lyrical about how great the mutual support is between musicians.  But I have just seen The Ginkz live and everything has changed.

On Thursday night I struggled towards Moose, Ekamai through monsoon-like conditions with half a drum kit on my little scooter.  Spilling in and out of the traffic (which immediately becomes approximately four thousand times worse as soon as the slightest drop of rain touches the ground) whilst dodging and crashing through swimming pool sized (and filled) pot holes is not the most fun I have ever had - especially as my feet were busy trying to keep the cymbals, stands, pedal and snare drum balanced upon my tiny ride rather than let them join the flooded road.  I arrived soaked and late (neither unusual) and we had a decent sound-check which was great because we were trying out new material.








There were 4 bands on the line-up at this Rhubarb and Custard event and Pennytime opened the show with another impressive energetic set.  Count the Thief were up next and they looked good from where I was sitting but then I was sitting behind them.  After us The Sangsom Massacre played one of their tightest shows yet - apparently due to the extra work they had been putting in ahead of their Hong Kong tour.

Then the Ginkz came on.  All seven of them.  Or was it 8?  Or even 9?  Either way there were lots of them and their show was just next level.  I just didn’t know who to watch because they were all doing something brilliant.  Whether it’s your style of music or not becomes completely irrelevant because of the infectious nature of their performance so I won’t even begin to describe it.  I even forgot that we had been a part of this night and just had an awesome time.

That’s it.  That’s all I need to say this week.  Just go and see The Ginkz live.  If you don’t I’ll find you, paint everything in your house blue and rig your stereo system so that it plays endless repeats of the single Pure Shores by All Saints from that Beach movie in 2000.



FEATURED BANDS:

(click the links for Facebook, website and event pages)


The Ginkz

Upcoming shows:                   Sat 26th Sept - Kodindy Festival

                                      
The Sangsom Massacre

Upcoming shows:                   Fri 16th Oct - Revolution @ Live RCA

 
Count the Thief

Upcoming shows:                   Fri 25th Sept – Whiteline Gallery, Silom
                                                  Sat 26th Sept – Zap, Saphan Kwai (acoustic)


Pennytime

Upcoming shows:                   Sun 4th Oct - Fubar Khao San Rd.               

 

All Saints

More info:                    ALL SAINTS - WIKIPEDIA

Video:                           ALL SAINTS - PURE SHORES

Reunion(?!):                  ALL SAINTS - POSSIBLE REUNION?!


Photo credit:              REDRUM

           

How does a band make it?  What is it that determines whether one band works and another band sucks?  Whatever your specific taste there can be no question that some bands gain a large following and become successful in one way or another.  We could go into the semantics of what successful actually means but let’s save that for another time.  So what is it that makes a band work to a point that they can inspire and be recognised by a large number of people?  What is it that brings a group together, keeps them together for a long period of time and allows them to make music that might not be too offensive to the senses?

Well the science is not exact.  There is no right answer.  There’s almost no point discussing it at all because it largely revolves around luck.  But sod that; I’m going to discuss it anyway – because I am a master of inexact science and my research has been going on for years.  I have been in a lot of different bands conducting said research.  It has been so gruelling that I have missed my submission deadline by a good week now just to ensure that the analysis was irrefutable and devoid of anomalies.  Odd how decades of research needs to be finished off just when a deadline comes around (it makes for a good excuse anyway).

One of the bands that enabled some of this investigation was called Nexus Six and as teenagers we played mostly in Bristol but also all over England.  If anyone can tell me where we got the name from then you’ll definitely win a prize – or at the very least I’ll push a goat in front of a train.  To me this band felt like it really had something, real potential to take it beyond the realms of a mere hobby.  At one point we had management interest from a guy who had previously represented The Pixies and was at that time manager for Hope of the States (an awesome band who sadly broke up a while after their guitarist committed suicide at their studio in Bath). When this manager started to line up gigs for us with some major bands such as Keane, Hope of the States, Radio 4 and Vex Red (to name a few that I remember) we really thought we might be in with a chance. 

But we all also had places at universities.  These universities were spread across the country.  In one way or another we all took those places.  What a sodding waste of time that was.  Not long after that we dis-banded (yes that’s the technical term).

To be in a band that works, that really works, requires the mystical alignment of at least a dozen different factors that are all as mysterious and elusive as one another.  Recondite and undefined by their very nature (not to mention wildly inaccurate) these are the things that seem to be necessary:  a certain level of skill with your chosen instrument; the passion and resourcefulness to create new music; an ability to perform in front of a crowd with genuine (not forced or taught) stage presence; the desire to work your balls (or vagina) off; the strength to keep working your balls (or vagina) off even when shit seems hopeless; the energy to tour, gig and carry lots of heavy crap around; the money to purchase instruments, amplifiers and transport and - perhaps most importantly - a comfortable enough upbringing that affords you the luxury of pursuing artistic goals such as this.  Then, not only do you personally need all of these factors but the other members of the band need them too - and in the perfect configuration. And their combination of elements needs to be similarly aligned as yours.  And they need to be decent human beings that you can endure spending time with.  And you need to be lucky enough to find them.  Oh, and you cannot manufacture any of these elements (well, unless you’re Simon Cowell) and if they do arrive and if they do come together then it is only pure luck that has led to this point anyway.

The myriad factors involved here make it near impossible to even start a band - let alone a band that ever actually makes it anywhere - but if you are fortuitous enough to track all this down then stick with it.  Don’t go to university.  University is an expensive piece of paper.  Well unless you’re curing cancer or whatever, then you probably need university.  But don’t bother with Ancient History and Philosophy.

Nexus Six was alive with many of these factors, and many were in alignment.  I am disappointed to have lost them and since then I have played in various bands and enjoyed a lot of them but never seemed to find that same gel.  It took many years to find this mystical configuration again but after a series of serendipitous events something seems to have come up.

These chance happenings began in July 2013 when our singer arrived in Bangkok.  Shortly afterwards we went to that Haus 20 show that I was on about in my previous article.  Degaruda had opened our eyes and – responsibly drunk – we agreed right there and then that we would get together to play some music.  This agreement turned into a trip to the Myanmar border, travelling on scooters out of Kanchanaburi, each with an acoustic guitar on our backs and little else in the way of equipment or weather appropriate clothing (I still haven’t learnt my lesson when it comes to motorbikes and waterproofs but I am aware that all this talk of clothing and waterproofs could be deemed somewhat of an innuendo).  Our plan was to discover new venues around the city as a guitar duo – possibly earning free beer and the adoration of all female kind in the process.

As I remember we actually had some pretty good stuff (in fact one of those tunes came in handy when we were stuck for something to play during a slow acoustic set much later on during a tour to Myanmar) but this guitar duo never really got off the ground.  Instead, when we returned to Bangkok, a fellow teacher and colleague invited us to a jam at Coco Walk.  This colleague (himself no stranger to the dark arts of musical expression) had the intention of starting a covers band.  I’m pretty sure the plan here was similar to that of our guitar duo – play music, get free beer, win adoration of female kind.  Intrigued, our singer and I went along.  As I have a strict aversion to cover songs my role was largely observational as I tinkered along on acoustic guitar but they did sound pretty good – our singer on bass, my colleague on lead vocals and guitar, a second guitarist who I’m pretty certain had just survived a car crash or something and some Rock Philosopher guy on drums. 

Now, as all great rock and roll stars should they went for a beer and smoke break.  The drum kit now free I decided to have a hit.  My colleague returned and began to play along with his guitar.  We were only tinkering but there was something there.  We would rise and fall at the same moments, stop, stab and change between rhythm and dynamics without even looking at each other.  This was like sex, but like awkward first date sex when you feel an instant and intense connection but are still not certain where all the bits go.  We knew we had a real kinship here and we didn’t even need to take our trousers off.  Then our singer came back in and slapped a bass line along too bringing us close to the kind of threesome you don’t really want to be a part of but it sounds so good to the ears that you don’t know how not to be. Then the Rock Philosopher came back into the studio and he thought I was a twat. The Rock Philosopher saw something in that moment and, despite his disappointment at relinquishing the drums, advised the three of us to work together and form a band.  How wise (or unwise depending on your point of view).

Soon after, a wild-eyed Canuck with a notable talent for bass guitar arrived at our school (it turned out later he’s not too bad with a regular guitar either).  No one really knew why he was there but no one wants to miss an opportunity so we roped him in quickly and the threesome became a foursome.  Now we were all in the same place of work and were lucky enough to have a music room on site where we could practice.  These four members - all of whom wrote songs themselves - were potentially a recipe for disaster when combined together.  But there were no egos, no one was precious about their songs and the mystical elements seemed to be coming together.  We worked on a lot of tunes in different arrangements and all swapping instruments.  As the sound developed and grew so did the potential.  Seeing this evolution, our colleague (who had been instrumental in lining up that first jam at Coco Walk) had a hunch that a lot more time and effort would be required to continue this growth than he had available.  Prioritising family commitments over this frivolity he urged us to continue without him.  It was a real loss, not least because we would not have access to his prolific back catalogue of great tunes, but also because it meant moving forward without a friend.  Decision made however, that’s what we had to do.

With the factors seemingly aligned we then began the process of practice, hard work and beer consumption that led to our first gig.  This inaugural performance was a true baptism of fire in front of 2,000 people.  It was televised live across the country, occurred in the middle of the Ministry of Finance which had been taken over by angry protestors and caused a considerable amount of controversy but that’s also a story for another time.  Then I read a book about cricket and we had the name Count the Thief.

So the investigation continues. Will this band make it? Who knows?  In fact I’m not even sure what that means but I enjoy it and we are working hard and we really mean it.  Come see us on Thursday 17th September 2015 at Moose, Ekkamai and make up your own mind.  Or watch some of the other brilliant bands playing instead.

Moose, Ekkamai

Ekamai 21 Above Y50 next to TUBA, Bangkok, Thailand 10110

RhuBarb & CusTard Presents:

YO MO FO

More midweek chaos with a great mix of local and international live outfits!

THE GINKZ

THE SANGSOM MASSACRE

COUNT THE THIEF

PENNYTIME

Live Visuals : Natthapoom Saenghan 

DJ SETS 

Entrance : 200 Baht

“Bangkok is massive. Somewhere in this sprawling metropolis there has to be some original music. There has to be some people amongst this giant population that are creating their own stuff and performing it. For too long I have spent time enjoying myself. I have had a nice time in bars around the city sharing Leo beers with friends and listening to average cover bands play old songs that I never really liked in the first place.”

This is what I was thinking 3 years ago when I was still new to Bangkok. For 6 months or so I had entered a comfortable expat routine in the same old bars, listening to the same old shit and hanging out with good people. It was great. It was fine. Well, fine was no longer enough. Comfort doesn’t get things done. Comfort does not help find the elusive witchcraft of true originality.

Enough with Oasis. Enough of Coldplay. Enough of that one song by The Cranberries. Enough of all this being content. I needed more.

With that in mind I began to search for the music scene that I knew must exist but had not yet presented itself. Back in any major city in the UK you cannot move for bands, posters advertising them and their merchandise and on any given night out you’ll easily stumble across many venues with original bands on the bill. But here in Bangkok it isn’t so easy. I had been lazy sure, but here you do have to work a little harder.

With my minimal amount of Thai any request for live music often found me back at the carbon copy cover band bars. Most expat friends (like myself) really only knew of the common areas largely based around and near the BTS line. For months I found myself sticking to the same routines and it took a friend to push me out of this cycle - with his similar desire to find the underground music scene our ambition combined and grew.

We had heard of a band that would be playing at Haus 20 somewhere in the depths of Lad Phrao. Determined to find it my friend and I assembled a group of fellow teachers and crammed into a taxi. It was a school night. We figured we could go to the gig, see a couple of hours and all be tucked up in bed by midnight to continue our working lives in the morning like the good professional teachers we always are. Two hours of traffic later we arrived in Lad Phrao with no clue where this venue was (Google-maps has never really liked Bangkok anyway). After driving up and down for what felt like another hour we ditched the taxi and continued on foot. Grumblings from the group suggested that people were frustrated now. The plan was falling apart, the hard work of trying something new wasn’t going to pay off. People wanted beds and sleep and to stop wandering around places they didn’t know with little seeming reward for their efforts. So we sat in the next bar we found. The obvious solution at this point was to get a beer. There was a covers band playing on the stage. I sang along to an Oasis song – we all did. We had a nice time. Then everyone went home leaving my friend and I to taste defeat. We had tried to break the mould but perhaps we would have to return to the comfy routines.

But no, we would not be beaten. Not when we were so close to finally finding a real band. By this point we were mildly intoxicated and we hadn’t come all this way just to give up. We walked as far as another bar, asking everyone on the way for directions. Most of these innocent people seemed confused - some a little scared. Each bar resulted in another beer and more confidence and hope that we’d make it. Midnight came and went. Haus 20 was still out of reach.. and then.. through a large window pane I saw movement, guitars, and a drum kit..

The place was about to close so they let us in for free. Or maybe we just stumbled in without noticing that we were supposed to pay. Either way, we were in - we had found it!

On the floor at the front there was a madman smashing the effects pedals with his face and shredding the hell out of his guitar. At the back the drummer was causing what can only be described as utter devastation to the kit in front of him with a face like he really meant it too. The bass guitarist seemed calmer until you saw his fingers moving at light speed across his fret board and I’m pretty sure the vocalist was making the microphone bleed. And it was beautiful. We had finally found what we had been searching for. Here was some raw, original music that appeared to have no compromise. This was what these guys loved to do, you could feel it and you felt a part of it as they drew you in to mosh along. A whole new world had opened up and it truly felt like the start of something special. So we got smashed.

It turned out that most of the people in the audience were members of the other bands who had played earlier that night. There can’t have been more than about 20 people (perhaps because the place was so fucking hard to find) but they had all stuck around for the whole show. Shouting drunkenly at some of them over the volume of the impossibly tight riffs screaming out of the PA I soon realised they didn’t want to talk. They wanted to watch it and take it all in. And they were absolutely right so I shut up. At this stage my memory is hazy but I’m pretty sure we only saw a couple of songs and I’ve no clue what they were but I knew I needed more. The band had stopped but the night went on. Work the next day was a lot of fun.

The band that had made their mark so vividly all over the clean cut walls of Haus 20 was Degaruda and they immediately became my favourite band in Bangkok – not least because of the sheer passion and conviction with which they played. Their live show really is something that has to be seen and I have now done so many times, even having had the privilege to play on the same bill on several occasions.

Since then I have discovered so many places trying to help grow this small scene. I have been to many gigs and seen many new venues, some of which come and go quite quickly. Playing in a band myself, we are sometimes lucky enough to be invited to play at venues we’ve not heard of before which helps with the exploration of this fair town and also leads to the discovery of new, great bands all the time. Still in its infancy I’m sure the scene here will continue to evolve but it needs the support of people like you. People willing to make the effort to go and find the original places. Believe me they are out there and once you know where they are you won’t ever look back.

Haus 20: Design and Dine

Lat Phrao Rd, Khlong Chaokhunsing, Wang Thonglang, Bangkok 10310

Degaruda

Facebook: www.facebook.com/DegarudaMusic

Also find them on Bandcamp and YouTube

Next gigs: 
Moose, Ekkamai, August 27th & Fatty’s Bar and Diner, Din Daeng, Rama 9, September 6th 2015

Count the Thief

Facebook: www.facebook.com/countthethief

Also find us on iTunes, YouTube and www.countthethief.com

Next gig: Thong Lor Art Space, Thong Lor, September 5th 2015